


Make Me Lose My Head

by swtalmnd



Category: Swan Song - Fandom
Genre: Band Fic, M/M, Mattrick, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: Matt does some press for the Swan reunion tour. Patrick 'helps.'





	Make Me Lose My Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenThayet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Swan Song (Part 2)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552433) by [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68). 



Matt had always taken care of the majority of press for Swan, and fifteen years later that was as true as ever. Today's schedule was mostly phone interviews, and Rachel had set him up in a hotel room with a very nice hands-free headset, mobile phone, and a charger. He could pace around the room all he wanted this way, fidget and make drinks and google things to his heart's desire without needing to be tied to one spot the way he'd had to in the old days.

"Almost time for the first one," said Patrick, twitching the gauzy curtains closed to soften the morning light. "Settle there for now," he said, gesturing to the sofa they'd made into a nest for him, stocking it with water and snacks, phone and headset, blanket and laptop and pillows.

"Yeah, all right," said Matt, though he pulled Patrick in for a reassuring kiss first. He'd meant to keep it light, but Patrick's hands melted something inside him as always, and the kiss turned hot and greedy, enough that he was glad no one else could see the tent he was making in his pants. "All right," he said again, going to snatch up the headset just as the phone -- a new number provided just for this that Patrick had sworn to make Matt answer -- began to ring.

Patrick laughed and helped him get settled while he started the conversation, smooth rockstar charm settling into place as the woman on the other end stumbled over herself reassuring him that she was the reporter he'd been expecting. Matt leaned on the arm of the couch and answered her questions as smoothly as he could, mostly ignoring Patrick's continued hovering so he could concentrate.

"Yes, of course we'll do all the old hits. What's the fun in a reunion tour where the band only plays b-sides and weird side projects?" Matt laughed suavely to keep from saying something snarky instead. He got through her designated half-hour and accepted some coffee and kisses from Patrick, barely getting in a few sips of each before the phone rang again.

Somewhere around the fourth interview, one of the pillows fwumped onto the ground in front of him, and Matt jumped. Patrick winked and knelt, using Matt's knee for leverage and turning it into a caress as he settled in.

Matt swallowed, but nodded permission, slouching down and spreading his legs. Patrick hadn't done this for him in so long, but it had once been a favorite game. Patrick would tease and torment him while he tried to keep his game face on, or at least voice, and Matt would try to remember his pat answers to the same half-dozen questions he'd been fielding all week.

Patrick grinned, impish and boyish, a look that Matt would have done anything for back then and doubly so now. His hands stroked up and down the insides of Matt's thighs, and Matt wished he'd thought to wear pajamas all day instead of dressing in his usual interview-day casual rockstar jeans. Matt wanted to feel more than the distant warmth and denim-dulled caresses, so he took the initiative and popped the buttons one by one, freeing himself and sliding down his jeans. At least he'd left his shoes off, so he could let Patrick take them off and go back to what he was doing, adding teasing kisses in with the other touches as a reward.

"Oh, hm? I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?" asked Matt, having lost the thread of whatever the guy on the other end was expounding on while he'd been busy stripping. He buried his hands in Patrick's messy red hair, finger-combing it into a different mess while he tried to care about the droning reporter's personal nostalgia conspiracy theory. "Reunion tours aren't new, but there's more of us now than their used to be since not every rock star ends up dead or in Vegas anymore."

Patrick snorted and bit his thigh.

Matt had to swallow a yelp, but fortunately the timer he'd set began to gently chime and he hid it in a cough. "It seems we're out of time," he said, trying to sound regretful. The man seemed put out, but he'd spent so much of their limited time babbling instead of listening, Matt had little sympathy. "You can call my agent to arrange a follow-up if you'd like," he said and then hung up, wanting a moment to himself before the next call began.

"You are such a dick," said Matt, pulling him in for a hot kiss. "How long has it been since we did this?"

"Last tour, I think," said Patrick, nipping at Matt's mouth, clearly in a playful mood. "That was the time Anna almost caught us on the tour bus."

Matt chuckled. "Good thing you warned her away this time." They were still kissing when the phone rang again, and Matt let it wait a moment before he pulled away and answered.

Patrick knelt back, but instead of resuming his slow tease, he buried his face right in Matt's crotch. Matt swallowed his gasp and leaned his head back, hands in Patrick's hair and his attention as much on the call as he could bother. This one seemed like the type to ask something weird just to try to get a viral sound byte, so he couldn't just trust his brain to spew out rote answers.

"So, how about this one. Your very own Patrick, Daron Moondog, and Les from Dujour: fuck, marry, kill?" she asked, her voice full of dry humor.

"Marry Patrick, obviously," said Matt, nearly ruining the light tone of voice when Patrick's head shot up, nearly colliding with his chin. "Um, Les from Dujour has proven hard to kill, so I guess fuck him and kill Daron? Who is a wonderful guitarist and doesn't really deserve the fate, such as it is."

Patrick's shocked expression faded to wry humor, and he stole a silent kiss before nuzzling his way back between Matt's legs. Matt muted his phone for just a moment so he could groan at the heat of Patrick's mouth through his silk boxers. He forced himself to take a long drink of water before turning the sound back on.

"Sorry about that, didn't want to drink in your ear. We've been rehearsing together, of course, and the dynamic is both different and basically the same as ever. Except now everyone's got kids and we're retro." He chuckled gamely at that, charming and self-assured in the way that let her in on the joke.

"Do you have kids?" she asked, suddenly sharp.

Matt rolled his eyes. "No, no. I get to be the cool uncle to Patrick and David's kids, just like Anna's the crazy aunt."

"Except Anna is actually an aunt," pointed out the reporter.

Matt laughed again. "True, true. I can only try to live up to her example," he said lightly. 

Patrick had been nuzzling this whole time, a gentle sort of affection that was easy to talk around. Apparently that wasn't enough now, though, and pulled the waistband of Matt's boxers out of the way and down, tucking them under his balls. Matt checked the timer a little desperately, not sure he was in practice enough to keep from giving the game away to this clever girl.

"So, what's one thing you'd like to say to your fans?" she asked, a final question so generic he nearly laughed.

"To our old fans, I'd like to say thank you for sticking with us after all these years. And to the new fans, welcome to the party!" Matt's voice nearly broke at the end as Patrick ran his tongue up the length of his cock, face impish as he kissed the tip.

Matt stroked his thumb over the pink-tinged freckles on one cheek, making the rote goodbyes and hanging up with another groan. "You're going to send me to an early grave, and then who would help with breakfast?"

"You love me," said Patrick, sucking at the head of Matt's cock.

"I love you," Matt moaned. He threaded his hands through Patrick's wonderful red mop of hair again, shifting so he could thrust just a little. "Get me off before the next call and I'll do that thing you like during my lunch break," he promised.

Patrick chuckled, the sound a strange sensation around Matt's cock, but he took the plea to heart. He began sucking, slow but thorough at first, tongue teasing the length while his lips moved up and down in a steady caress. His hands were firm on Matt's hips, keeping him from any further thrusting, but he wasn't making it a hardship. Matt loved it when Patrick took him apart, though he couldn't afford to go completely to pieces right now and they both knew it.

Still, Matt couldn't help but love the way Patrick drew out his pleasure into the tiny sliver of time they had, making every second count, speeding up in increments until Matt was crying out and coming just as the phone started to ring.

They both laughed breathlessly, and Matt took one more deep breath before he answered, still chuckling. "Hi, sorry, just give me a moment," he said, muting so he could kiss Patrick soundly and drink some water to calm himself. The reporter on the other end was saying something fawning and conciliatory, and Matt ignored it while Patrick got him tucked away both into his boxers and under a lap blanket, jeans left in a pile where they'd landed.

"You're going to leave everyone thinking I just get dressed off the floor," teased Matt, getting one last kiss before un-muting the call. "No, it's fine, I just had to get some coffee in me or I was going to expire on the spot. Yeah, I'm ready now, thanks."

Patrick took this for the obvious hint it was and got up to make fresh coffee. He brought one big cup and snuggled into Matt's lap to share it, which should have been awkward with two grown men but worked somehow anyway. Matt answered another standard question about the tour, Patrick fed him a sip of coffee, and it wasn't at all like no time had passed -- it was so much better.

**Author's Note:**

> Daron Moondog is from Cecilia Tan's wonderful Daron's Guitar Chronicles, a web serial about gay rock stars in the late 80s/early 90s. 
> 
> Les and Dujour are from the Josie and the Pussycats movie with Alan Cumming in it, and if you haven't seen it you really should.


End file.
